


The Surgeon Unchained

by RedShirtWriter34567



Category: Mad to Be Normal (2017), Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Desk Sex, Dom/sub, Finger Sucking, M/M, Oral Sex, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:08:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24018772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedShirtWriter34567/pseuds/RedShirtWriter34567
Summary: Ronald visits Martin, unchained inside his cell.
Relationships: Martin Whitly/R.D. Laing
Comments: 7
Kudos: 39





	The Surgeon Unchained

**Author's Note:**

  * For [angelwriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelwriter/gifts).



Ronald Laing stood inside Martin Whitly's-the Surgeon's-cell, behind the bright red line on the floor. The door was shut and locked, the guard bribed to be gone for at least an hour. Martin stood on the other side of the red line, watching Ronald with hunger in his eyes. He was free from his usual restraints, the tether limp on the floor, his handcuffs beside them. He licked his lips but stayed where he was. For now.

"How long do we have?" he asked Ronald, eyeing him up and down.

Ronald shivered under the older man's scrutiny. "We have an hour. I paid extra to have your cuffs and tether removed."

"Are you sure that was a wise idea?" Martin asked. "You should never be inside a wild animal's cage when it's hungry."

"What are you hungry for, Dr. Whitly?" Ronald asked, leaning seductively against the cell wall. "How has it been since you've had any kind of release?"

"Too long," Martin answered. He stepped forward, only an inch from crossing the red line between them. "Are you sure about this, Ronnie? I don't know if I can hold back."

"Don't hold back, Martin," Ronald replied. "Cross the line."

The serial killer wasted no time. Martin stepped over the red line and crowded Ronald against the wall, pulling him close and into a deep, filthy kiss. His hands roamed all over Ronald's slender body, groping, squeezing through his clothes. Ronald melted into the older man's embrace, his hands ghosting over his back, over his sweater, to tangle into those salt-and-pepper curls, which were softer than his sweater. Martin pulled Ronald across the line and over to his desk, shoving him against it, letting him sit on the edge. Their lips never ceased contact, until Martin's hands went to Ronald's chest and tore open his blue shirt. Buttons flew across the cell, and Ronald tipped his head back with a moan, as Martin began kissing and biting his neck, his beard scratching the Scotsman's sensitive flesh.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted this," Ronald gasped. "How much I've wanted to see you, unchained and free to do what you want to." He hissed in pleasure and pain when Martin bit down on his right shoulder, leaving a mark. 

"I needed this too, Ronald," Martin panted, his voice rough with need. "It killed me to not be able to touch you the way I wanted to." He sucked another mark into Ronald's neck, then licked it. "Fuck, but you are everything I need right now."

He kissed Ronald again, nibbling on his tongue. He sucked the Scotsman's lower lip between his teeth, relishing in the whine that left his lips. He kissed down Ronald's chest, swirled his warm tongue around a nipple, then took it between his teeth, biting. Ronald moaned, lacing a hand through Martin's unruly curls. The older man got down on his knees, unbuckling Ronald's belt and lowering his slacks and underwear down to his ankles. Martin bit and sucked marks into the skin of Ronald's inner thighs, made crescents with his fingernails as he spread Ronald's legs further apart. His cock stood proud and leaking against his belly, and Martin licked his lips again. 

"Martin," Ronald moaned, thrusting upward when the older man wrapped a hand around his erection, stroking it idly. "Please." His accent had gotten thicker in his arousal, his eyes dark with desire as he looked down at Martin.

"Patience, my boy," Martin teased, his eyes crinkling as he smiled.

He licked a slow stripe up Ronald's cock, tonguing the leaking slit. Ronald moaned, pulling at Martin's hair. The older man wrapped his lips around the younger man's cock, sucking lightly. He slowly swallowed the length down, relaxing his throat and hollowing his cheeks, using his hand for extra friction. Ronald laid back against the desk, moaning loudly, his back arching beautifully. Martin hummed around the length in his mouth, his own cock hard and dripping inside his white pants. He sucked Ronald off for a minute more before pulling off, rubbing his thumb across the head. Ronald whined at the loss, propping himself up on his elbows, his eyes hooded, his lips swollen and red.

"I need you inside me," he pleaded to Martin. "Fuck me, Dr. Whitly. We both need it."

Martin moaned at the raw need in the man's voice. He began removing his clothes, tossing aside his sweater, his shirt. Ronald sat up on the desk and helped him out of his pants and underwear. Martin's erection was red and taut, the head weeping furiously. He opened a desk drawer and removed a tube of lube, flipping the cap open and slicking up some of fingers. 

"Come closer," he instructed Ronald. 

The psychotherapist obeyed, shifting on the desk. Martin stood in front of him, trailing a hand down his back to his perfect ass. Ronald inhaled sharply and gritted his teeth as Martin's finger breached him. He dug his nails into Martin's arms, gritting his teeth as his body tensed.

"Relax, Ronnie," Martin soothed, rubbing his shoulder.

He added a second finger into the younger man's entrance, scissoring them. It had been a long, long time since he'd had to do this, but he still knew that you had to be careful. He maybe a serial killer, but he never used sex to cause pain. Unless of course the pain was wanted, and in that case, he was happy to comply. He stretched Ronald carefully with three fingers, probing, searching for that magic spot. He knew he'd found it when the younger man's cried out in pleasure, his nails cutting into Martin's skin, his cock jolting against his stomach. He pulled his fingers out and slicked up his erection, pulling Ronald even closer, wrapping his legs around his hips.

"I don't have any condoms," he told Ronald. "Are you still sure about this?"

"Yes," Ronald answered. "I want you to come inside me, Martin. I want to leave here dripping with your come."

Martin growled at that, and entered Ronald swiftly, his nails cutting into Ronald's slender hips. Ronald mewled as Martin bottomed out, scratching his nails down the older man's back. Martin set a brutal pace, the desk shaking with their movements as he hammered into Ronald, biting and sucking on his neck, before claiming his lips in a messy kiss. Despite what many people would or did think, Martin was capable of love, of caring for someone besides himself. He loved his children, even still loved his wife. And Ronald...well, he wasn't entirely sure what he felt toward the Scotsman. It was definitely lust, more than desire, and a lot more than simply liking him. Martin shifted his hips, spearing Ronald's prostate, relishing in the primal yell that left the man's lips in response.

"I'm close, Martin," he moaned. "I'm so fucking close! Please let me come, I need to come!"

"You come when I come," Martin growled, nipping at his throat. 

He kept up his thrusting, until he felt his orgasm beginning to build within him. He bit down on Ronald's left shoulder, hard enough to draw a little blood. He came with a groan, his hips pumping as he filled Ronald deeply with his warm seed. Ronald gasped at the sensation, his moans getting higher and louder as he own release neared.

"Come for me, Ronald," Martin whispered into his ear, releasing the bite. 

The Scotsman shuddered, his whole body tensing as his back arched and his eyes rolled back in his head. He tightened around Martin's softening cock as he came, his come squirting up and catching in his thick, dark chest hair. He slumped against Martin, panting, their bodies mingled in sweat and come. Martin waited a few minutes before he pulled out, a thrill going through him at the sight of his release dripping from Ronald's used hole. He sat down in his desk chair and pulled Ronald into his lap, letting him catch his breath. After another few minutes, Ronald sighed and raised his head from where he'd been resting against Martin's chest.

"I should go," he said. "Hour's almost up."

"Alright," Martin agreed quietly.

They got dressed, Martin into his white Claremont clothes and his sweater, Ronald into his blue shirt and black slacks. The shirt was crumpled and crooked because of the missing buttons, but Ronald didn't seem to mind. The guard returned and opened the cell door. 

"I'll see you next week?" Ronald asked.

"Of course," Martin said. "I look forward to it."

They shared a smile, and Ronald left the room, limping slightly, to Martin's delight. The guard closed the door with a slam, and suddenly, Martin felt cold. And alone. He sighed and flopped down onto his single bed, staring up at the ceiling, counting down the hours and days till Ronald's next visit.


End file.
